


A Long Way to Ha’rar

by TunnelScreamer



Series: Bold Hope [1]
Category: The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blood and Injury, Brea (mentioned), Crushes, Dream Sex, F/M, Onica (mentioned), Seladon (mentioned), Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:33:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23569873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TunnelScreamer/pseuds/TunnelScreamer
Summary: Rian and Gurjin have fled like snow in summer. They are wanted for treason and murder and Tavra has been sent to track them down.She is tasked with bringing them back to Ha’rar for trial, can they convince her the Skeksis are the real enemy?
Relationships: Gurjin/Tavra (Dark Crystal)
Series: Bold Hope [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1754053
Comments: 8
Kudos: 14





	1. The Black River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tavra finds the traitors fleeing on the banks of the Black River and has a life or death confrontation.

If there is no one to carry out the law, there is no law. Tavra knew this. While Seladon followed their mother, learning the duties of the All Maudra, Tavra was sent out into the world to keep order. Now she found herself traveling south, further than she had ever been. This journey might take her all the way to the Swamp of Sog, though, with autumn approaching, there were other places she wanted to be.

“Find Rian, find Gurjin,” her mother had commanded, “find them and any of their allies.” These were the names of two guards accused of treason against the Lords of the Crystal. They were dangerous and their minds were tainted, the All Maudra warned. Tavra was ordered under no circumstances to dreamfast with either of them.

And so, she was sent out to search for the two traitors. Her path led her down through the mountains and into the forest where her landstrider staggered over roots and gobble-pits. Here strange calls filled the canopy and ill-tempered fizzgigs growled in the undergrowth.

Along the way she stopped and talked to villagers to gather information. No one had seen the pair of guards. If they were out to start a rebellion, they were doing it very quietly. 

It was through the chatter in taverns and passing travelers that she heard the rumor. They were more than traitors, they were murderers. The story was they had killed a fellow guard, young Mira of the Vapra clan. This news only made it more urgent that Tavra bring them to justice.

A few days into her journey, she came to a clearing in the forest by a bend in the Black River. There she stopped to refill her canteen. Free of her weight, her landstrider lowered his head and groaned, tired from the days walk. Though she didn’t want to, she decided it was time to take a rest.

She sat beside the river and watched the ripples wind along its surface. She dipped her hand in the water knowing the gentle current would join the tides at the rivers end. If only she could follow it away from all this mess and out to sea.

Then, upriver, she heard voices. She made her way slowly toward the sound. And that was how she found them, Rian the Stonewood and Gurjin the Drenchen. They were moving through the tall grass on the other side of the river looking for a place to cross. She followed them taking shelter behind rocks and bushes, stalking them.

If they could be separated, she might be able to take them both, one at a time. Rian was more important; he was the first target.

With careful focus, she watched him. In each movement he made, she could see desperation. He seemed unsure of where he wanted to go. His deep black hair swished with every frantic change in direction. In his hands he clutched a glowing blue bottle as if it were his whole world. She had no doubt he’d stolen it from the castle.

His accomplice was big, nearly a head taller than Rian. Fortunately, he was slower than his friend and walked a fair distance behind him. She had to take down Rian quickly before the other could react. Her only advantage would be speed.

Tavra did something bold. She removed her helmet and her sword and tucked them in the brush. Hopefully, when this was over, she would return for them. 

Light and agile would be the best way to take him. Armed only with her dagger and some rope, she climbed an old gnarled tree, stopping on a long outstretched branch. She was poised for flight.

The world went dark as Tavra closed her eyes. Taking a deep breath, she silently asked the winds to guide her safely through this. On the exhale, she opened her eyes and leapt into the air.

She flew high between the afternoon suns, hoping their light would obscure her from view. Down below, Rian looked small, and his friend was at least a hundred paces away. She soared over the river and with a swish of her wings she changed direction, diving straight down at her target with speed and momentum. The whoosh of the air filled her ears, her arms were out and ready. All her muscles tightened; eyes locked on her target.

She braced herself for impact when, _THUNK_ , pain shook her chest. Her wings went limp and she tumbled through the air. 

“RIAN RUN!” a voice boomed.

She crashed hard into the muddy ground, snared in a tangle of rope. “Eel feathers!” she growled, unsheathing her dagger and slashing the thing to pieces. The Drenchen had thrown a bola.

Slicing free of the last rope, she wiped clear her eyes and spit a gob of grit and muck. Her wings were heavy with mud, and each attempt to fly sent her stumbling.

Rian splashed across the river, holding his precious bottle high above the water. Once on the other side, he disappeared into the darkness of the forest, the blue glow fading into the shadows.

Tavra heard pounding feet and turned to see his accomplice charging toward her. One last time, she tried to fly and got enough lift to raise both legs. It was just in time to drive her heel into her combatant's eye.

He staggered back but stayed on his feet. She was afraid of this. He was strong and well trained; this was not a favorable fight. But she had a mission and couldn’t dwell on poor odds. Gripping her dagger tight she looked him over.

“By order of the All Maudra of the Seven Clans, I demand you surrender yourself to stand trial for your crimes!” the paladin shouted, rising to meet him.

“Listen, it’s not what you think, the skeksis lied to you!” he said, both his hands were clenched in ready fists.

“You listen!” She pointed with her dagger, “you just assaulted one of her majesty’s paladins, is that a lie too?” They stood a moment, the fugitive guard facing the paladin princess. “Gurjin, let’s do this the easy way, if you’re innocent then you have nothing to fear in Har'ar,” she waited, thinking maybe her words had reached him.

Then he ran.

“Coward,” she said under her breath. As her wings shook loose the last of the mud, she hopped onto a boulder and into the air.

He ran in the opposite direction Rian had, hoping to lead her further away from his friend. He didn’t know what to do if she caught him. To him, it didn’t matter, so long as Ran was safe.

Seeing her shadow, he turned. Just as he did, she dove down onto his back. The crook of her arm swung around his neck. The paladin’s arms formed a tight knot, choking him into surrender.

He fell to the ground, rolling and thrashing, trying to shake her loose. He pressed all his weight on his back to force her to let go. Wedged between Gurjin’s back and the hard ground, Tavra couldn’t breathe. The pressure on her body made all her bruises ache and she felt little pops in the bones of her chest. Still, she held tight.

Desperate to escape, the he swung his fist, crashing back onto her head. He did this again and again until, finally, the arm around his neck loosened. He jerked free and rolled to the side, gasping for air.

Tavra collapsed, flat on her back. Her world had been pummeled into a blur, but she came quickly to her senses when she felt two massive hands grip tight on her throat.

He gazed down at her, his eyes looked wild and deranged. In that instant, he could have done anything to her. She thought of her mother, how disappointed she'd be that daughter died at the hands of a filthy traitor. Then she thought of Onica, waiting for her by the seafarers lantern and knew, she had to escape. Fumbling with her dagger, she plunged it into his side. He was already loosening his grip when the blow landed. 

“HHHUUUUuuuaargh” He rolled over grabbing at the wound, blood spurting between his fingers.

\---

Tavra was more skilled than most with a rope. She made sure he was bound well enough to walk but not able to run. His hands were tethered together behind his back. She improvised a dressing for his wound from a piece of her own shirt. When the bleeding slowed, it would be time to move.

“Don’t try to run, this is only going to get worse if you do,” she said placing a hand on the bandage. Half her face was that of a refined Vapran maiden, the other was bruised and swollen. 

“You don’t understand,” he said wincing, speaking was painful, “the skeksis did this, I loved Mira, we both did, and they killed her,” he looked at her with eyes full of grief. Or maybe it was guilt, she had no way of really knowing. 

She took her captive across the river and back to the place where she had stashed her things. Given all they had been through, she decided to camp there for the night. The evening would be spent recovering and, in the morning, they would begin the long journey back to Ha'rar. 

From their campsite, Tavra watched her landstrider play in the shallows of the river, prancing and splashing over his reflection. In the grass across from her, the prisoner was resting. His chest rose and fell with long, slow breaths. He looked pitiful. Even though he had just nearly killed her, she felt bad for him. The dark woodland was not far away, and she would need to keep an eye out for any forest creatures that might make trouble for them.

To pass the time Tavra washed, folded, and sharpened her things. And when the last sun set, she started a fire.

The sky grew darker and she kicked off her boots. She began absentmindedly humming an old Vapran song to herself as she leaned back in the grass. 

Gurjin’s eyes opened wide looking at the silver haired warrior across the fire. He knew the tune; it was a song Mira used to sing. To Tavra’s surprise, her prisoner joined her. His raspy voice singing the old gelfling words to the song. She stopped humming and listened. Then something behind him caught her eye.

In the forest, she saw a blue glowing light. Rian had returned for his accomplice. Tavra moved beside the prisoner.

“Your friend," she whispered in his ear, "he’s in the bushes, call to him." His voice went silent. 

“Do this and I’ll ask the All Maudra to be lenient with you,” she whispered, as she took out her dagger, “be reasonable, this isn’t a request,” the words slipped through her teeth. She pressed the tip of the knife to his shirt.

“Eat Sog, I’m not afraid of you,” he said, challenging her, “you want me alive for your trial.”

It was the worst thing he could have said. Now Tavra had something to prove, she would have to make him afraid.

“There is a lot that can happen between here and Ha'rar.” She replied in a low voice.

She ran the dagger along his neck and used the blade to push open his collar. The Drenchen didn’t move. She rested its blade beside one of his gills and still, he didn’t flinch.

She could hear his breathing change; in each inhale she saw a forced calm. Sweat began beading on his head. While his courage was impressive, she wished he would just give up. She was willing to do dark things to protect the seven clans, and he was testing her.

“Come and talk to us!” She shouted into the night for Rian to hear, “Gurjin has explained everything and I believe you! Listen to him, he’ll tell you!”

She locked eyes on him as she brought the blade to rest inside one of his gills. He could feel its cold surface in all his nerves. She twisted the dagger gently, not wanting to cut him yet, just enough to open the flap of skin. She looked inside at the wet red ridges, they tremored with his rapid heartbeat. He threw his head back and shouted.

“RUN! RUN! RIAN GET OUT OF HERE!!” He closed his eyes and waited for what would come next.

There was a rush of sound in the forest and his cold gills went warm. Tavra was on her feet looking to the dark wood as the blue light disappeared. He listened as she released a storm of profanity into the night.

Whatever happened next didn’t matter to him as long as Rian was safe. He fell to his side and rested his head in the grass as a cold sweat and tears rolled down his cheek. His heart pounded like it was trying to flee his chest.

“I’m sure you’re proud of yourself!” She said, standing over him in the dark, "I’ve got a mind to cut you open now just out of spite.” 

It was an empty threat, Tavra was actually relieved it was over. This criminal had brought out something dark in her. Through it all, she still felt bad for him. Murderer or not, he was in her care. “Get some rest, it’s a long way to Ha'rar,” she said, throwing a cloak over him.


	2. Doubts and Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey was long and the prisoner was restless. Finding help along the way, Tavra continues on to Ha'rar. She begins to doubt herself and decides she needs to know the truth.

The air was cool in the grey haze of dawn. The last ember of the nights fire faded into smoke as Tavra got ready. Beside its charred remains, the prisoner slept, curled under a cloak. She knew that once he was up her work would begin and there would be no peace until he was back asleep.

The throbbing ache in her head was becoming difficult to ignore. She picked up her sword and checked her reflection in the blade. She looked awful. The swelling was gone but her eye and cheek were stained, black and blue, and a deep cut severed her lip. She shoved the sword down into its sheath.

It was not until the second sun began to rise that the prisoner awoke. Without thinking, he went to rub his eyes. He struggled against the rope on his wrist. Knowing he could not reach his face made him want to touch his face more.

He looked up at the paladin, standing ready in clean clothes, “I have an itch on my nose, I need to scratch my face,” his voice rasped.

She looked down, amused. “You’re going to need to make peace with that itch, you won’t be scratching anything until we reach Har’ar,” she said, calmly swinging her pack over her shoulder.

“I also need to go, and I don’t think that can wait till Ha’rar,” he replied, leaning back on his side.

Her eyes narrowed in a look of disgust. She helped him to his feet. This was going to be a long day.

“Be smart and don’t give me reason to bloody my dagger,” she threatened as she loosened the knots binding his wrists. Hands free, he scratched his face then he walked toward the bushes with his back to his captor.

She gave him three paces, “stop, that’s far enough."

“You have to be joking,” he whined, standing out in the open.

“If you have to go then go,” Tavra waited.

He peeked over his shoulder to be sure she wasn’t looking, but she was.

“If you think I’m stupid enough to let you out of my sight you’re mistaken, hurry up, we need to leave,” she already wanted this journey to be over.

Until they reached Har’ar, he would be both her captive and her burden. The moment the steady stream stopped, a knife press against his back and it was time to begin the day.

She checked his bandage and secured his ropes. Her landstrider waited nearby. He was curious about the prisoner and took little springy steps toward him, with thoughtful pauses in between. The young creature tilted his head when Tavra whistled for him. 

He followed beside her as she led the prisoner up a rock and, fluttering her wings, she carried Gurjin onto the landstriders back. The creature groaned and shook his head, unhappy with the feel of the new weight. Tavra whispered a soothing word and rubbed the patches of fur on his neck, and then they set off.

They rode back to back, Tavra's hand holding the rope that bound his. Gurjin, facing the landstrider's little flickering tail, watched the river pass into the distance. He turned his head to talk to the paladin.

“Tavra, you know my mother, our family has always been loyal to the All Maudra and the Skeksis. You have to believe I didn’t do this,” he pleaded.

“You’re wasting your breath. Even if I did believe you, there‘s nothing I can do. Save your stories for my mother or at least my older sister Seladon, they have power, I do not,” she said with a hint of bitterness.

“You do have power, you can let me go.”

“And become a fugitive along with you?” 

“Why not? It’s the right thing to do,” he said as the wind whipped her hair against his cheek.

She ignored him. 

“Tavra?” 

“If you can’t be silent, I’ll have to think of a way to silence you,” she had no patience for his lies.

\---

They rode along the edge of the wood until the path turned, entering the darkness among the trees. Here, the landstrider slowed, plodding through the brush. She decided it was time for them to walk.

As they made their way through the forest, the scent of smoke and spices filled the air. Tavra exchanged a curious glance with her captive, wondering what was up ahead. Cautiously, they moved forward. She held one hand on her sword and the other on the rope that bound him.

They peered together over a log to see a lone gelfling beside a cooking fire. On it sat a sturdy pot which he stirred and dropped in a handful of roots. Long black hair hung down in braids brushing against the dark skin of his cheek. She wondered if it might be Rian but realized quickly it was not.

The boy leapt back at the sight of them, “oh, you startled me," he said. He bowed his head recognizing that Tavra was a paladin, "hello, I’m Kylan," as he spoke, he examined the two battered strangers.

"Good day Kylan," Tavra replied politely, approaching with Gurjin, "my name is Tavra, I'm on official business from Ha'rar and this..." she knew the etiquette for many situations but had never learned the proper way to introduce a prisoner. 

"I'm Gurjin, she's kidnapping me," he decided to introduce himself.

Tavra wanted to hit him. Kylan looked confused. 

"Don't listen to him, he’s a prisoner, wanted for crimes too numerous to mention," was her well-mannered reply.

"Oh, I see," Kylan said. He was still confused but managed to hide it. He saw both travelers eyeing his cooking pot.

"So you are on a quest for justice," he said to Tavra. The paladin was bruised but he could imagine what her face was like before it was marred. "You must be tired, stay and eat with me, I could use company, I'm running away from home." 

"That's very brave, starting a new life on your own," she said.

His ears raised and his eyes brightened hearing her words. He brought her a bowl as she unbound Gurjins hands, tying them in front of him so he could feed himself. 

As she ate, Gurjin took the chance to speak.

"It's a lie, I’m innocent. She says I'm a murderer but the skeksis are the murderers, they killed Mira! And now they’ll hold a trial and somehow that's justice," he rushed to say all he needed to before Tavra could stop him.

She closed her eyes in annoyance, she was getting tired of this story.

"Quiet Drenchen, we're guests here," she snarled, "please ignore him, he's unwell," she swallowed a mouthful of the lovely stew. “Have you ever heard such a thing? Skeksis killing gelfling, it’s absurd.”  
  
“Actually I have heard of such a thing,” Kylan said, looking down at his bowl. He sat quietly collecting his thoughts. “Have you dreamfasted with him? It’s the quickest way to find the truth,” he raised his eyes to Tavra.  
  
She felt cornered and wondered if this boy was an ally of Rian’s.

“I haven’t and won’t. Look what he’s done to my face and imagine what could happen to my mind,” she sipped from her bowl.

They finished the meal in silence. Then Tavra spoke, "I need to step away, watch him, shout if he does anything, I won’t go far," she walked into the woods seeing her chance at a moment of privacy. 

Kylan stared at the prisoner. He understood what the skeksis were capable of and believed his story. Without a word, he stepped forward to take Gurjin’s empty bowl and, at the same time, reached out his hand.

Their palms met and Gurjin shared a hurried vision of skeksis in the castle shouting about draining gelfling of their essence, then he and Rian running for their lives. The vision ended with a plea, _Go to Sog, find my sister Naia, then find Rian and spread his message_. 

_I can’t_ Kylan replied in the dreamfast, _I’m too afraid_.

 _Naia will help you_ , _Kylan I believe in y-_ "

The dreamfast broke when Kylan felt the warmth of the paladin’s hand on his shoulder. 

"We need to be going now," she said calm and direct, realizing what was happening. 

Tavra grabbed the prisoner’s arm, to pull him to his feet, but he did not budge and sat defiantly. 

"Oh, please stay, I know all the songs of Jara Jen, a journey is much better after a song," Kylan offered kindly.

"We really must be going," Tavra shoved the handle of her sword into Gurjin's wounded side. He leaped up in pain. The action sickened her, but she could think about that later, now they had to go. 

"Thank you for your kindness,” she said, then whistled for her landstrider as they hurried off.

\---

After that, they avoided every campfire, village, and passing traveler. They woke before sunrise and did not rest until long after sunset. The only time she felt secure was when they were moving. All she had to do was get him to Ha'rar and then she would be free. 

Her first thought in the morning and her last thought at night were of the prisoner. Soon she learned he was not the monster she was told he would be. What she saw as they traveled, was a young gelfling more interested in eating and daydreaming than anything else. He whined about everything, about the food, the weather, and her choice of campsite. At times it was like she was traveling with her little sister. He fidgeted constantly. He was irritating, but not criminally so. At times he was angry and afraid, but he seemed unburdened by guilt and, in brief moments, doubt snuck into her mind.

On their last evening, they made camp above the tree line in the Claw Mountains. They were less than a day’s walk to Har’ar. Knowing the journey was nearly over, she gave him double the usual rations for dinner. He was happy with the food but was struggling with the mountain cold. He sat near the fire shivering.

"I know you don’t care, but I'm afraid of what will happen in Harar," he said, as she dropped another bundle of sticks on the fire, "I'm sorry for what I did to your face, it was a nice face," his lip trembled with cold.

She sighed, "if that were your only crime, I'd forgive you," she sat by the campfire. It popped and crackled, fighting away the cold.

“If you were the All Maudra,” he looked into the flame, “what would you do? I mean you nearly are,” he asked.

“Second born princess is an empty title, its almost as bad as being a prince,” she yawned, “but if you and Rian are as sick as they say you are, I think you need help more than punishment.”

“Do you think I did it?” his sturdy shoulders tremored as he spoke.

“I don’t know,” her voice was low, she thought, “I will say this, your life would be much easier if you’d killed me when you had the chance.”

“I am no murderer,” he said, as much to her as to himself.

The moonlight shone on an empty mountainside, there were no trees or stones to cast a shadow. This was the prisoners last night outside a cell. In a moment of mercy or stupidity, she did not know which, she walked over to him and loosened the rope on his wrists. If he tried to escape, he would not get far in the cold anyway.

“There, scratch your nose all you want,” she coiled the rope in her hands and draped a cloak over him, “now get some rest.”

She took her usual spot by the fire and watched him shiver himself to sleep. She was beginning to seriously doubt that this was a murder. If he were innocent, surely her mother and the Skeksis would see their mistake. But the thought kept her awake.

“Gurjin?” she looked over; he now had his back to the fire. He did not reply.

There was only one way to know the truth. She had already faced off against him in a fight, why was she afraid of a dreamfast?

She knelt beside him. His mouth was open, his eyes were closed and twitching. His hand was resting by his face. She pressed her palm against his. It was wrong to sneak into his mind, but she had to know the truth. They linked in a dreamfast. What she saw surprised her. It was not a memory but a dream.

\---

In it she saw herself, healed and in a crown. She sat on a throne of crystal ice, dressed in a white gown. This, she guessed, was how he imagined the All Maudra. Gurjin approached the throne.

“Good you’re here! I’ve been waiting,” dream Tavra said, light rippled around her as it would if they were at the bottom of a pond.

“So have I, then you know?”

“Yes of course, now get over here,” dream Tavra smiled, her light skin glowed, “I always knew you were innocent,” she said sweetly as he joined her on the throne.

This dream was beginning to irritate real Tavra.

The gown the woman wore was made of a fine sheet of snow, it flowed like silk. She knew it was snow because it melted away everywhere he touched. Each pass of his hand left dream Tavra wearing nothing but pure water. The body was not quite her own, but it was close enough to make her stomach turn. This was not the truth she had wanted to see.

Were this dreamgirl someone else she might have watched curiously, amused by his creative thirst. Their lips pressed together in wild desperation as the dreamgirls body moved against his, the last of her clothes spilling to the floor in a puddle.

Watching him knock the crown from her snowy hair to push her head into his lap infuriated her. She had decided this was enough.

“Hey! Wake up!” her real voice shouted to him in the dream. In a sudden flash their minds separated.

He saw her, real Tavra, kneeling beside him. Startled and confused, he reached out, “Tavra?”

Feeling fury and disgust, she brought her elbow down hard onto his face. He fell, limp and unconscious.

\--

When he awoke, he was tied to the back of the landstrider. His head throbbed. He could hear Tavra, standing below, talking to other paladins. He could see the palace gate. He was in Harar. 

“Aughra’s eye! What happened to his face?” he heard one of them say.

“Yes, that was unfortunate,” Tavra replied, “he fell off the landstrider, he’s fine though.” She continued, “aside from being clumsy, he was a model prisoner, quiet and respectful. I think the other is the more dangerous of the two, this lad seems to have got caught up in the wrong crowd.”

He listened to her words, she lied so freely. Then he reached for his face, feeling his swollen nose. Two soldiers helped him down from the landstrider. One on each shoulder held him as Tavra approached. She couldn’t look him in the eye.

“Goodbye Drenchen, good luck with your trial, I’m sure we’ll meet again,” only with her last words did she look briefly on his face.

"Goodbye Vapran, I’m sorry," he replied, his words muffled by a fat lip.

She watched as they lashed his hands behind his back, tighter than she ever had. Then she walked away to speak with her mother, doubt never leaving her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These are two of my favorite characters to write so I decided to write them in the same story and I want to take this time to apologize to both of them

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of a series set in an AU where Tavra never makes it to the Swamp of Sog to meet Naia. She doesn't get the chance to join the resistance.
> 
> The next two parts would focus on the trial and the other two sisters, who also are not on the right side of the resistance (yet). 
> 
> This is an idea I have been writing off and on for a while and haven't posted because it's weird seeing good characters do bad things. But if I don't post this it's going to keep nagging me.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
